


Implosion

by orphan_account



Series: Lighthouse [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/F, F/M, Lovers To Enemies, OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 22:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17211917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Chloe's inner fire and drive might have brought her where she is, but it's also destroyed things she's loved. There might be something worth picking up among all the ashes.A semi-musical AU no one asked for.





	Implosion

_ ‘Implosion.’ _

 

Unbidden the word ran in her head. Since she'd first heard it, it had always felt like such a uniquely terrifying word. A violent collapse, inward. She'd first learned about it in middle school, eyes and ears rapt to Mrs. Laden standing up front.

  
A Supernova, a star so big, so bright, so strong, that in its death instead of fading or extinguishing had imploded. The brightest stars fell inwards with the biggest bang. Bitterly she came to acknowledge that that was what they were. Or had been? In the midst of an  _ implosion _ . A true and utter fucking  _ collapse _ . Their brilliant, bright star, falling inward until nothing but dust and light and terrible angry heat were all that were left. Leaving them to be expelled apart from one another in a terrific cataclysm.

 

It had started small. Max had been sarcastic, reacting to Chloe's drunken stunt at the bar. For her part, Chloe had been too quick to react negatively. She didn't even remember what the comment itself was, only that at the time it had pressed a white hot needle inside her head where no one was allowed to strike her but herself. A needle that pushed a button that started a chain reaction. And for once Max hadn't bent meekly to her furor. She hadn’t backpedaled and sought to appease Chloe and blow over the strain. Instead she'd reared back, clenched her fists and fought back. On reflection Chloe figured that a year stuck in an ill smelling, too cramped van would do that to anyone. Quicken their temper. Set their defenses to maximum. Shave ounces off of pounds til they were all on hair triggers.

  
By the time they were done her vocal chords felt more shredded than when they'd left the last gig they'd played. Her body thrummed with energy and her ears rang with Max’s retort. So much energy in that small body, building and just waiting for a release. She watched as Max walked away, tear stained face screwed up in agony and anger; hate bubbling through.

  
' _God damn it we fucked up_ ', looping through her brain.

  
Her own face was hidden behind her palm with fingers spread wide, spiked bracelet settled uncomfortably against her lips. Her teeth ground together and tears streaked mascara and ruined liner in a sprint down her cheeks.

 

' _Why the fuck couldn't she have just left it alone. What the fuck_ '.

 

She stood still and impassive as Max backed away, silent as she called someone. Chloe's body began shivering despite the warmth in the air, a testament to her internal turmoil. After what felt like hours but had likely only been minutes she heard the gutteral sound of an approaching engine. With greater speed than safe a jeep rounded the bend into the parking lot.

The man that nearly jumped out from the drivers side glared her down, frown stunningly visible behind his unkempt beard and shaggy visage. She could tell he was pissed off even in the shitty glow of the parking lot lights. Of course she had called Ryan. They were only blocks away from the Caulfield residence, closest they'd been to either of their families since they had set out on this little adventure. It was 3 AM and here he was, collecting his sobbing daughter and her meager possessions. She avoided his glare as he pulled Max’s cases from the van’s rear.

 

She briefly felt her heart follow through with its final shatter, thin glass threads stabbing through her chest. She stamped it down. Ground to dust beneath her heel. She struggled to ignore the pain. She didn’t  _ need  _ this. Didn’t  _ need _ him. The man had been a father to her once, and she laid his shattered memory beside the grave of her own father in her mind. She knew he no longer saw a second daughter standing there, but instead the callous woman who broke his daughter's heart.

 

As he peeled out of the lot she retreated to the van. She slipped inside as the sound of the engine turned distant behind her. Breath ragged and mind racing, she tried to curl into the furthest back seat. Muttering soft and strangled curses she pulled a pair of dingy black earbuds from her hoodie pocket while fighting to control the shivers stalking up and down her limbs. She looked up to find Frank halfway turned around in his seat.

  
"So, umm, Chloe...", Frank sputtered out in a still weak and sleep lilted voice.

 

"Not now Frank." She steeled a gaze that dared him to try and bring it up again, hoping her took the hint.

  
"Okay Price, fine. Fine. Fuck it.” He brought his arms and hands up in a gesture of resignation. “I'm gonna go back to sleep."

  
Frank twisted back around in the driver's seat, pulling his battered hat back over his eyes. Her eyes flicked to the rear view mirror. Rachel was still staring at her. Her eyes were piercing and unflinching, despite the tinge of missed sleep and a hangover just begun. Slowly, her tired and unsteady eyes left the rear view mirror.

  
Chloe avoided her gaze and bounced her foot to the roaring beat in her ears. Screwing her eyes shut tight she tried to drown the memory of the last few hours. A few minutes passed that way. But it wasn't working. All she could see was the sharp look of hurt on her former lover’s face. All she could hear was the grief and anger sharpened sobs. All she could feel was frustration mounting at this situation.

 

After minutes of fidgeting, enough was enough. She ripped herself up from her seat and slid the van door violently, its abused hinges crying out and slamming shut. Frank shot from his slumber back into panic filled wakefulness as Rachel shot ramrod straight and made as if to follow.

  
"Hey, Chloe wait!" Rachel was already halfway out of the passenger side, bracelet clad wrist extended plaintively.

  
“I'll be back tomorrow. I'm going to walk into town." Chloe waved her off, shaking her head while backing away.

 

Her voice was hoarse and unsteady even to her ears, but filled with enough bravado that Rachel brought her arm down and pulled back into the van. As she walked away she turned around, the last glimpse she got as was Rachel's forehead pressed against the glass as she watched her leave.

 

The walk into town was mercifully short, if not that interesting. A gravel road led to dirt led to broken and patched pavement. It wasn’t Seattle proper but close enough to see the clouds in the distance lit up from the city underneath. They hadn’t planned on returning so close to Max’s home, but Steph had landed a sweet and easy night, and none of them could complain. This morning she’d even been looking forward to stopping by the Caulfield residence for a homemade breakfast instead of Waffle House and shitty black coffee. That was off the table now. If she ever showed up on their doorstep she’d be surprised if Vanessa didn’t kill her outright.

 

She pulled her hoodie up to cover her head, choppy pink and red strands of hair peeked out and framed her stormy face. She worried the hem of the hoodie with her left hand, right hidden in the pocket that held her phone. The hoodie was sleeveless and torn, a ratty old relic from Rachel that she'd reclaimed from a donation pile. The sweater that Max had given her for Christmas was buried deep in Ryan's car by now, already a loss she keenly felt. That fucking sweater. One more thing to miss among many. Her feet shuffled forward while her eyes swam and were blinded by tears, her destination hazy. The only objective was distance.

  
She came up to a bench near the end of the main street. The changing of albums in her ears and painful steady sting of a rock in her right Converse the only sign of time passing by. Her astringent anger had slowly faded to be replaced by storm clouds in her stomach, whipping up uncertainty and frothing with I'll ease. Sitting, she pulled the buds from her ears and quieted her phone. Leaning back she took great shuddering breaths as she wrapped the cord around her fingers and set it back in her pocket.

Left hand drumming against the bench, she dialed a number she hadn't called in months and paused her thumb above the 'call' button. Their last conversation had been a screaming match, testing the audio limits of her phone. This wouldn't do. She put the phone back with a gruff sigh. What was she supposed to say?

 

' _Hi Joyce , I fucked up. Made an ass of myself at the bar we played last night, the girl i loved fucked off because obviously I'm the problem, and oh, I think I have the hots for this new chick that’s been hanging around us. You know. The usual_ '.

 

No way. She hadn’t needed Joyce after her father died, she wouldn't come crawling back over this. Her fingers slipped to another contact.

 

She pressed the call button.


End file.
